Learning
by thestupidgenius1123
Summary: Ella and Iggy spend a night...learning. For kateflowrchild13. One-shot. Eggy. T for cursing.


**Learning**

**A/N: Just a little somethin'.**

**[Summary: Ella and Iggy spend a night learning. For kateflowrchild13. One-shot. Eggy. T for cursing.]**

**Hey, kateflowrchild13: Hopefully you see this and read it! I was going through some responses from TMW and found all of your requests for Eggy! I tried and tried but couldn't figure one out that would work for TMW. Anyways, I did figure something out that I think you'll like. I hope so, anyways. Thanks for always supporting my stories! I really appreciate it. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own. All rights to **_**Maximum Ride **_**and the characters and back stories and all that jazz go to James Patterson. I also do not own **_**Punk'd**_**. **

IGGY

"It's not funny, Fang. Don't laugh at me," Iggy said miserably, pulling on his third shirt of the afternoon.

"I'm not," Fang said. But Iggy knew Fang, and he knew that slight hitch in is voice that meant all the little Fangs in Fang's head were laughing hysterically at Iggy's expense.

"I don't get why you're so worried," Fang said.

Max, who was lying on Iggy's bed as he got ready, added, "Yeah, you two have been together for like nine months, right? That's a long time, Ig. You'll be fine. Not like it's a first date or anything."

Iggy dragged a hand down his face. "I haven't seen her in six months. What if she's changed? What if I've changed? What if we don't like each other anymore?" Not expecting an answer, Iggy spun in the direction of his bed. "How does my hair look?"

There was a pause. "Uh…clean?"

Iggy groaned. "Nudge!"

Her soft footfalls came down the hall and Iggy heard his bedroom door swing open.

"Yes?"

"Hair," he said shortly.

"Oh. Okay. Yeah, we need to fix this."

Iggy sighed. "Never ask Max, man," Fang said.

"And, what are you wearing?" Nudge demanded. "This color?"

Iggy fingered his shirt nervously. "Well…Fang said-"

"Fang. You listened to Fang on fashion advice. Really?"

"Never ask Fang, man," Max mimicked in a deep voice. She was cut off as something moved violently onto Iggy's bed, making it creak loudly. "Ah! Fang, stop!"

Iggy's face screwed up in disgust. "If you aren't going to help, get out!"

"Whoa, chill. It's going to be fine," Max said, slightly out of breath from wrestling with Fang. "Fang, get off."

"Nope," he said to her whining. "And she's right. El is totally obsessed with you. Just don't be weird."

"If she was totally obsessed, she would want him to be his weird self," Max argued, sounding out of breath still. "Fang, you are crushing me!"

Nudge sighed, fitting another shirt into his hands. "Here. And your hair is fixed. It'll be fine. Where are you guys going?"

Iggy sighed, pulling off the offending shirt Fang had OK-ed. "Dr. M is dropping us off downtown, on Old Main Street. I figured El would be into dinner in one of those small restaurants, then we could, like, window shop."

"Window shopping?" Nudge asked. "But…it's going to be kind of one-sided…"

Iggy pulled roughly at his hair. "You think I don't know that! What else can we do? Watch movies? No. Go bowling? Sorry! They don't let you in the bowling alley twice after you've hit someone with the ball! _It was an accident_!"

Nudge didn't say anything. Fang let out a noise that was definitely amusement - he was probably remembering that endeavor quite clearly.

"Art museum? Nope. Go carts? Can't drive. Mini-golf? How the hell am I supposed to pull that off? What else is left? Roller coasters? Well too fucking bad, because _my girlfriend is afraid of heights_. Not to mention I imagine it's terrifying being flung around by an unreliable metal contraption. I don't feel like peeing my pants in front of her."

"Ig, she'll like your idea," Max said softly. "She gets to be with you, that's what matters."

Iggy shook his head. Now that Nudge had mentioned it, window shopping would be really one-sided. _Oh, my God! Look at that! Oh, never mind_. Or: _Isn't that so cute? Oh, I mean, I think it's cute. It's like blue and sparkly. Can you picture it?_

"It's stupid. It'll be awkward all night."

"Why don't you cook with her?" Fang asked finally.

Iggy huffed. "What?"

"It'd be…romantic, right? Instead of going out for dinner you could teach her how to cook something."

Before Iggy could laugh off the suggestion, Nudge gasped.

"Fang! That's such a good idea! She's always been so intrigued by your cooking, Iggy - she sits there and _watches _you make dinner."

Iggy pondered this. It was one thing he could do without being totally impaired. Plus, it would be romantic. Just the two of them, cooking their own dinner, the house quiet-

"Where would we do this?" Iggy asked.

"Here!" Max said. "We could hang out at Mom's for a while. You know our kitchen inside and out. It's perfect!"

"Yeah, that is kind of perfect," Iggy said.

Max laughed. "Good job, Fang," she said, sounding a bit impressed. "Now _get off me_."

"Oh, shit! What time is it?" Iggy demanded.

"Uh, four thirty. Why?"

"Dr. M is coming over here with Ella at 6. I need ingredients." His mind started reeling as he thought about what he should cook with Ella. "I need fresh fish. Salmon. And, uh, lemons. Some potatoes. Garlic, soy sauce -"

"Okay, we'll go shopping for you," Nudge said. "Calm down."

"No, I need to go. I need to make sure you get the right stuff. Do we have time?"

"Yeah, but we need to go now."

• • •

"Hey, Ig, are you ready?"

Iggy was in the kitchen, nervously feeling all of the cooking utensils laid out on the clean counter.

"Ig?" She turned into the room; he knew because her voice got louder and closer. It echoed less before it reached him. He smiled. "Where is everyone?"

"They went to your mom's," he said.

"But…Mom's outside."

"Tell her to go home. We aren't going out anymore."

"Uh…you're being weird."

_Fuck, Fang told me not to do that. _

"It's not like I'm going to kill you or anything," Iggy said with a shaky laugh.

Ella's voice was humored but slightly worried when she said, "I'd believe you more if you stopped brandishing that knife."

Iggy dropped the knife he'd been petting, hearing it clatter on the marble countertop. _Stop touching threatening kitchen utensils. Jesus. _

"We're going to cook our own dinner," he said slowly. "If…that's okay with you."

"Yeah," she said, her smile evident in her voice. "Let me just…get rid of Mom."

Iggy let out a relieved breath as he heard Ella run outside. As soon as the door opened and closed again, he smiled, turning to get the salmon from the fridge.

"So, what sparked this idea?" Ella asked. He heard her grunt softly as she struggled to kick off her shoes, and heard each of them thunk distinctly onto the wood floor of the entryway.

He grinned. "Fang. I was…struggling to choose what we should do tonight."

"I like this," Ella said. "What are we cooking?"

"Salmon," Iggy said.

Ella paused.

"Oh, shit, are you allergic?"

How could he have been so _stupid_? He moved to throw the packaged fish into the trash and Ella stopped him with a, "No! No, I'm not allergic. I'm just not big on seafood."

Iggy frowned.

"But, I'm willing to try it!" she tried quickly.

"No," Iggy said, opening the refrigerator and putting the fish back inside. "I'm not going to feed you something you don't like. I should have asked you what you wanted to make."

_So stupid._

"I'm sorry," Ella said. "I don't want to be picky. I just…didn't want to lie."

Iggy smiled. "Yeah. Otherwise I would've tried to cook you elaborate seafood meals for the rest of your life and you would've bottled it up forever."

Ella laughed lightly. "Right. Exactly. Sorry."

"Well…" Iggy felt for one of the kitchen stools and sat down. "Pick out what you want for dinner."

He hoped to God they had something edible in the kitchen. You never really knew, with the flock. One day it was stocked full, the next it was barren.

He heard the suction sound of the fridge door being pulled open. "How about…chicken?" she asked tentatively.

Iggy thought for a moment. Green beans, potatoes, and grilled lemon chicken. Perfect substitute for salmon.

"Perfect choice," Iggy said. "Is it boneless?"

"Uh…yes," Ella said. "Are we decided?"

"We are decided," Iggy said. "Let's get to work."

First they prepared the potatoes. The plan was to chop them into diced pieces, then season and salt then and bake them. The green beans were just needing to be sautéed, and the chicken would grill in no time. So, they did the potatoes first.

"Ig, will you help me? These are tough to cut through."

Iggy stepped behind her and reached to bring his arms around her waist. He miscalculated, though, and bumped her arm. Ella gasped sharply.

"Oh, sorry," he said. His fingers drifted over her back and then finally found a way around her. Just as the scent of blood hit his senses.

"Shit, El, how bad is it?"

"Not bad," she said shakily. "I mean, not _that _bad."

He guided her by her elbow to the sink, turned on the tap and tested the temperature, then said, "Keep it under the water, and put pressure on it. Where is it?"

"My palm," she said calmly. "It's okay, Iggy. It doesn't hurt that bad."

Iggy was still kicking himself. "I'm going to go get the first aid kit. Hang on."

He hurried down the hall into the bathroom and reached into the medicine cabinet for the small kit. Someone had moved it, though, _of course_, and so he bumped around multiple pill bottles and tubes of toothpaste and whatnot before finding the plastic box.

He went back into the kitchen. "Has it stopped bleeding?" Iggy asked.

"It's bleeding less," Ella said. He heard the water turn off, then the rip of a paper towel being removed from the roll.

"Come in the living room," Iggy said softly. "I'll patch you up."

"Okay," Ella said, sounding awkward. She laughed gently. "Guess you sharpened that knife really well."

Iggy winced. "I'm sorry."

"Really, Ig, it's okay."

He didn't say anything. They sat down on the couch and Iggy opened the first aid kit on his lap, holding his hand out. Ella placed her hand in his, palm up.

"Where is it?" he asked softly.

"Here," Ella said, lifting Iggy's other hand to the tender side of her palm, right under her pinky finger. "Not big, maybe an inch."

Iggy sighed. He took out a small thin packaged and ripped it open, the alcoholic smell of antiseptic wafting toward him. He pulled out the small disinfecting towelette and gently cleaned the area.

"Stop it," Ella said softly. "People accidentally get hurt cooking at the time. It's a bit of a dangerous hobby. Frankly, you're pretty brave to do it all the time."

She was trying, but failing. Iggy frowned. "You wouldn't have cut yourself if I hadn't bumped you."

"You don't know that," Ella said. "It was probably just a matter of time."

He smoothed a bandage over the cut once he had cleaned and dried it.

Ella touched his arm lightly. "See? All better. And I'm starving. We should get back to cooking, chef."

Her soft voice held no accusation or anger. Iggy sighed. Ella was so sweet - he didn't deserve her. The patience she had with him was amazing.

"Come on." They stood up. In his burst of confidence, he reached out for Ella's hand - where he presumed it was - and missed by a landslide. His hand grabbed awkwardly at her flat stomach before he realized and dropped his arm in humiliation.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Iggy said quietly, totally embarrassed. "This sucks, El, I'm sorry."

Her small hand landed on his shoulder blade, rubbing comfortingly. "No, it doesn't suck."

"If I weren't so messed up-" he began, motioning to his useless eyes.

"Don't," Ella said firmly, "_ever _say that." Her skinny, cold fingers gripped his chin. "You can do pretty much everything better than me, blind or not. Everything about you is perfect to me, Iggy. I don't care. I've never cared. That isn't going to change."

Iggy's shoulders relaxed slightly.

"And I don't want normal. I want you. I've never met someone who made me hate normal before, but… with you, normal just feels wrong. If this had gone without a hitch I would've thought we were on _Punk'd_, okay?"

"Do they even play that show anymore?"

"No," Ella huffed. "But they should. Ashton Kutcher was a genius."

Iggy laughed. She sighed and said softly, "There is an easy fix, okay? We're just going to…relearn each other."

She took both his hands slowly and placed them on her hips.

"Hips," she said.

Iggy smiled lightly. "Feel pretty much the same."

Ella took her hands away from his and Iggy froze for a second. She was just going to…let him? Free reign? Now he was nervous again. He felt her body shift and her stomach, under his slowly-circling thumbs, move gently with her breathing. He pushed his palms, flat against her shirt, up her waist.

"Still skinny," he murmured, closing his eyes. He let his mind build a picture of her. She was wearing blue. Her skin was hot, even through the fabric of her sweater. She'd dressed for outside weather. His hands continued up, slowly, climbing over her ribs and passing gently over the sides of her breasts. Her breath hitched and he smiled.

"All feels familiar," he taunted softly. She let out a breathy laugh.

His deft fingers came to her armpits and he wiggled them, causing her to jump and smack his arm.

"Iggy!"

"Still ticklish…"

He moved his hands down her arms, over the soft, smooth skin of the inside of her elbow. Her skin was velvety soft and beautiful - a natural tan color. He paused while his fingers found her pulse on her wrist. It was pumping against his touch abnormally fast. His lips twitched.

"Your hands are dry. You need lotion," he murmured, feeling the roughness of dry skin on the inside of her knuckles. He kissed her band-aid and then each finger quickly, accounting for all of them.

"Uh…" She cleared her throat. "I use a lot of hand sanitizer at the clinic, when I help Mom. It dries out my hands."

"They're still beautiful."

"How can somebody have beautiful hands?" Ella blurted incredulously.

Iggy froze.

"Close your eyes."

"What?"

"I have to trust that your eyes are closed, since I can't really make sure," he said. "Are they closed?"

"Yes, Iggy, my eyes are closed."

"Good. I want you to pretend you don't know what I look like."

"Can I ask why?"

"Because," he said. "You're going to learn me like I learned you. And then you'll see how something like someone's hand could be beautiful."

Ella just simply said, "Okay, I'm ready. But don't put my hands anywhere _I _wouldn't put them."

He was startled into a laugh. Iggy took her hands and placed them on his hips. Their dinner was totally out of their minds, now.

"Hips."

Ella let out a short giggle. "Oh-_kay_." Her fingers moved around the waistband of Iggy's jeans and over the front of his shirt. She settled on his abs first.

"Strong," she murmured lowly, daring to slip her _fuh-reezing _fingers under Iggy's shirt. He flinched slightly and she giggled some more. "Jumpy."

Her fingers crawled up his abs and then dropped out of his shirt, patting along his chest until she felt his shoulders. She was really reaching - since he wasn't bent over she was only about the level of his sternum.

"Tall," Ella whispered. "Slim."

Tentative fingers felt up his neck and jaw to the poking stubble on his chin. She smiled. "Lazy," she joked, rubbing her palm flat against the hair he'd been too nervous to shave before their date.

Her fingers moved down his arms and trailed over countless scars and blemishes left from old wounds. "Scarred," she said finally, her voice husky. "But, experienced. A _survivor_."

She let out a harsh breath. "You're right," she said quietly. "I get it now."

Iggy found it hard to swallow. Once he finally managed it, he said, "El, one more thing you have to guide me to-"

She didn't hesitate. She grabbed his hand and put it on her cheek, his thumb lying across her lips. He stroked her mouth gently with his thumb, back and forth over the plump bottom lip until she whimpered, "Iggy."

The final test. The memory he had of Ella's lips was pure heaven. Soft, suckling, open and pliable under his. Giving and taking and leaving his mouth to explore his chin and neck and stop to suck on that spot on his collarbone; the spot that's easier for her to reach and makes it harder for him to think.

He ducked his head and covered her mouth with his.

She hadn't changed a bit.


End file.
